


Do You Understand What You Do to Me?

by anonymous_dragon



Series: Mark of the Soul [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 03:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2094855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_dragon/pseuds/anonymous_dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam sees a glimpse of Gabriel’s wings. Gabriel notices. (And he may feel just a tad scared.)<br/>Or<br/>When Sam’s born with a soulmate mark that is random gold squiggles (also known as Enochian) on his hipbone, and Gabriel never bothered to look for his own mark after he left Heaven. (It appeared on May 2nd, 1983.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Understand What You Do to Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Just going to say that I, of course, do not own these characters, seeing as I am simply a fan that can only dream to rewrite Supernatural (because killing Gabriel off was one of the biggest mistakes the show made). Oh, and this is my first [published] fanfiction for Supernatural, so I hope I've portrayed them to some kind of standard.

Stories had been jokingly shared about the angels’ wings; Dean had seen the shadow of Castiel’s once, but Gabriel insisted he had larger, and at least two more pairs.  
Sam had never truly taken the archangel seriously.

But there they were.

Okay, they weren’t entirely there, but Sam could see more than just an outline of the feathered wings. They bordered the look of a mirage, seeming to mirror almost the very Sun. 

The wings almost seemed to not want to be seen, shifting in and out of Sam’s focus, but he could make out the golden coloration of the wings, bright and brilliant, possibly even blinding.

Sam couldn’t take his eyes off of them.

Of course, Gabriel soon realized that Sam was focusing on something just over his shoulder. “Is there something more interesting here than me, Sammy?” Sam managed to tear his eyes from Gabriel’s wings to see the trademark smirk on his face.

“Not that I can see,” came Sam’s reply, his eyes already trailing back to Gabriel’s wings.

“Then what are you—” Gabriel’s eyes suddenly widened. “You can’t—but that’s not—how are you—you aren’t looking at my wings, are you?” It must have been a rhetorical question, because Gabriel had vanished before Sam could so much as open his mouth to reply.

***

“Gabriel, calm down,” Castiel, bless his soul—er, grace, was ever the voice of reason. “Do you know for sure if he saw your wings?”

“Pretty damn sure, Castiel; he was staring right at them.”

“That doesn’t mean anything, Gabriel. For all we know, this could be another side-effect of the demon blood addiction. Just as we can see demons’ true forms, perhaps Sam can now see part of angels’.”

“Has he showed signs of seeing _yours,_ Cassie?” Gabriel bit out.

“No, but that fails to present itself as infallible evidence.”

“Well, then, what about this?” Gabriel gestured his shirt away and opened his wings, spreading them from his back. Turning around, he showed Castiel the bare patch of skin between his shoulder blades. _Samuel W._ was written in elegant lettering on the skin in what looked to be gold ink, but both Gabriel and Castiel knew better. It was a soulmate mark.

“When did you get that, Gabriel?”

“I don’t know; I stopped looking after I left Heaven. I only just found it.”

“How did you manage that? Don’t you ever hand-preen anymore?”

“Why would I, Cassie, when all I ever have to do is snap my fingers?”

“You did less than stop looking, Gabriel, didn’t you? You avoided finding it.”

“Fine, Cassie, yeah, I didn’t want to know. I was happy as the Trickster, alone and always moving.” Gabriel shrugged. “I didn’t feel the need to look.”

“And now you’re freaking out because Sam Winchester’s name written on your back.”

“Well, isn’t Dean’s written on yours?”

“That’s beside the point, Gabriel. It’s not like he can read or hope to translate what is on his arm. He’s not even aware it’s Enochian.”

“Exactly, Cassie. How do you break this to a _Winchester?_ ”

“… I do not know, Gabriel, but you should tell Sam soon. If he can already catch glimpses of your wings, then it’s only a matter of time before he figures out whose name he has on his skin.”

“When are you going to tell Dean, then, hm?”

“When I deem it an appropriate time.”

“Okay, when is it _ever_ a good time with the Winchesters?”

“Not very frequently, I have to admit.”

“Exactly. How about I tell Sammy if you tell Dean-o?”

“You just don’t want to have to tell him, do you?”

“Cas, I’ve been on my own for a while. I’m not really one for the whole … domestic thing. It doesn’t work that well for me.”

“Gabriel. Sam already lost his first soulmate; don’t make him lose you, too.”

“He doesn’t even know it’s me, yet.”

“Subconsciously, I’m sure he does. He isn’t aware that he knows, but he does.”

“ _Cassie,_ ” Gabriel whined. “Why do you have to be so … _reasonable?_ ”

Castiel blinked. “I fail to see why you’re complaining about that. Isn’t logic a good thing?”

“Well, sometimes, but not right now. You’re proving me wrong. I don’t like it.”

“Gabriel,” Castiel deadpanned. “Tell Sam. It would be best if you told him before he figures it out himself. While the Winchesters do not always seem the brightest, Sam is quite intelligent. It is not as though he would never be able to deduce that it is your name on his skin.”

“But—”

“Gabriel.”

Gabriel paused, before giving Castiel his most innocent smile he could muster. “Yes, dear Cassie-Cas?”

“Please tell him.” Gabriel huffed.

***

“What do you want, Gabriel?” Dean eyed the archangel suspiciously.

“I feel absolutely no inclination to share such information with you, Dean-o. Intimidation won’t work on me, kiddo.”

“Yeah, considering you could give me stomach cancer with a snap of your fingers, right?”

“Please, I’m much more inventive than _that._ I’m not Zachariah; I’ve got an imagination vaster than he could even pretend to fathom.”

“Of course, I didn’t mean to offend.” Sarcasm dripped from Dean’s lips. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“I’d like to speak with Moose,” Gabriel said, “if that’s okay with you, because I suddenly need your permission for some reason, don’t I? It’s as if, somehow, _you_ became the archangel in this situation.”

Sam walked into the motel room at the perfect moment; any later, and Dean and Gabriel might’ve been at each other’s throats.

“Samikins! Just the freaky-deaky hunter I wanted to see. Would you be terribly uncomfortable if I asked to speak with you without your promiscuous brother around?”

“No, but, uh, why do Dean’s _sleeping_ habits have anything to do with it?” Sam raised an eyebrow with an askance look directed at the archangel.

“Nothing, I just don’t really like your brother all that much. Now, c’mon, Sammy-wammy.”

“The feeling’s mutual!” Dean shouted at Gabriel as he disappeared with Sam, the sound of snapping fingers almost seeming to reverberate through the room. “Damn archangel.”

***

“So, Gabriel, what’s this about?” Sam inquired, glancing around. It seemed as though Gabriel had taken them to a field, like a soccer field beside a park, but the park was empty and so was the field. It just struck Sam as a bit odd, though Gabriel was always “a bit odd.”

“Castiel guilted me into telling you,” Gabriel blurted.

“Telling me what?” More suspicion colored Sam’s voice than when he usually spoke with the archangel. When Gabriel didn’t answer, Sam prompted him again. “Gabriel, what is it?”

“I, uh … Father, why does this have to be difficult? Okay, er,” Gabriel tried. “It’s Enochian.”

“What?”

“The writing. Wherever it is, it’s Enochian. Gold symbols? Kind of squiggle-y looking? Enochian.” Sam’s brow furrowed.

“When did you—?”

“My name, Sammy. It’s my name.”

“Gabe—”

“I don’t know. But it is.”

“No, I—”

“Are all Winchesters like this? What’s it with your pigheadedness? Do you not believe me, or something?”

“Gabriel!”

“What?”

“I know. I already knew.”

“What? How?”

Sam gave him a blank stare. “I saw your wings, and I didn’t turn to ash or salt or whatever. I made the connection.”

“Oh.” Gabriel blinked. “Damn, Cassie was right. You did figure it out.”

“Poor Cas, though. Dean’s not going to figure it out. He doesn’t want to; even if it’s crossed his mind, he’s not going to admit it.”

“You figured that out, too?”

“It was kind of hard not to, with the weird staring thing Cas does and that ‘profound bond’ they share,” Sam cracked a smile.

“Your brother’s blind, isn’t he?” Gabriel gave a returning grin.

“Sometimes, it certainly seems that way.”


End file.
